


high time

by revolving



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9618389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolving/pseuds/revolving
Summary: light falls in thick bands across the floor, heavy and golden, warming alternating strips of akimaru's back and calves from where he's sprawled out on the apartment floor. "yeah, okay," he's saying into his phone, mashed against his face and starting to get unpleasantly warm. "i'll pick you up at the airport. mmhmm. see you soon." haruna's coming home.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moon_Blitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Blitz/gifts).



> i always struggle a bit with what i want from this ship -- i feel like they're so tangled up together that they've got to struggle too, to work out what they want from each other when being together is in some ways so very easy and in others so very difficult. this is my first crack at them, so i hope this little snapshot is at least a little bit the sort of thing you like! 
> 
> this is some sort of nebulous future au where akimaru's in his second year of university and haruna is either on one of the national teams or playing professionally, probably.

light falls in thick bands across the floor, heavy and golden, warming alternating strips of akimaru's back and calves from where he's sprawled out on the apartment floor. "yeah, okay," he's saying into his phone, mashed against his face and starting to get unpleasantly warm. "i'll pick you up at the airport. mmhmm. see you soon." haruna's coming home.

*

at 5:36 am, akimaru's eyes are gritty, only forty minutes away from restless dreaming and five from the airport, haruna looking irritatingly fresh and awake though akimaru hasn't bothered to figure out what time his body might still think it is. he's been too busy trying not to resent the way something eased in his chest the moment he saw haruna in the crowd, tall and tousled, a faded red crease on his cheek from sleeping on the plane. he failed, is failing, looking at haruna out of the corners of his eyes on the drive home, early traffic thin enough to let him study the familiar cut of haruna's profile against morning sun. he might as well _be_  the sun is the problem, or something like it anyway, akimaru in orbit and spinning off-kilter, undecided on the preferability of a collision course versus escape velocity and achieving neither. closer or farther, together or apart. it's easier to keep going with the flow when he's not sure if either one will solve the slow fizz of discontent in his lungs. does he have what he wants, does he want what he has. probably not, probably yes.

haruna kisses him in the genkan; it smudges his glasses and akimaru laughs because it's been a month and somehow he'd forgotten that. haruna looks offended but akimaru just kisses him again, trips over haruna's bag on the way to the kitchen once they stop. it takes a while. it always feels more complicated when haruna's gone but it's easy once he's not and akimaru isn't sure what to do with that either, how comfortable it is to slot himself back into place by haruna's side, arranging himself neatly around the space haruna takes up in his life. akimaru makes a pot of coffee and haruna throws his suitcase in the bedroom in lieu of unpacking, drapes himself across akimaru's lap on the sofa.

"how's class," he says, voice buzzing against akimaru's stomach, the first thing he's said in twenty minutes that isn't about baseball.

"fine," akimaru tells him, coffee mug in one hand and the other in haruna's hair, combing out bedhead waves with his fingers. "long."

haruna hums, eyes closing like cat's, soaking up the attention. maybe he is tired after all. he certainly works hard enough, akimaru would know that even without semi-regular text updates on haruna's training regimen or the bookmarked tab of baseball scores on his phone. maybe that's the thing akimaru envies most, that purity of purpose, that haruna's known what he wants for most of his life. it pulls akimaru along almost as surely as it pulls haruna and it's gotten him here, with the sky brightening outside the window and haruna's head in his lap. it might be enough.

"take a nap," he says. "it's early."


End file.
